


Roger Restored

by LadyWynne



Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Showverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 01:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17633570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWynne/pseuds/LadyWynne
Summary: After Roger is rescued from the Mohawk and parts from Jamie and Claire, he contemplates his past, present, and future. He has a decision to make.A short ficlet exploring some of Roger’s thinking after he parted from Jamie and Claire in episode 413, A Man of Worth.





	Roger Restored

Roger wakes to birdsong and rustling leaves. He aches all over, and it takes several swipes of his ponderously slow hand to clear his eyes of enough crusty sleep to open them. How long has it been? Some time, from the stiffness of his limbs. He left Claire and Fraser in the late morning of the day before, put as much distance between himself and the Mohawk as he could, then crawled into the dim underbrush and fell immediately to sleep. It was a blessedly dreamless rest, deep and necessary for his abused body and overwhelmed mind.

With his waking, Roger’s situation returns to him, sudden and jarring, and he feels his heart crack like a pane of glass. _Brianna. Oh God, Brianna._ He has the sudden urge to go to her, and sits up, but the action brings his broken arm to agonizing life. He grasps it, grunting, and rocks in pain. _Steady fool._ With an effort he pushes all emotion aside and moves slowly, reaching for the canteen Claire had pressed on him as he left. He swishes the contents around his dry mouth, spits, and drinks deeply. The water is wonderful and clears his head considerably.

Roger carefully crawls out of his leafy burrow, squinting in the dappled brightness. Rising to his feet, he moves a little further into the woods, then down to a small creek. He washes in the icy stream and eats a bite of what Claire gave him. His bodily needs met, Roger allows himself to carefully contemplate everything that happened.

Brianna first. _One, Brianna sent for me._ _Thank God!_ She wants him, or at least she doesn’t want him beaten and enslaved. Does this mean she still loves him? Quickly following this another thought hits. _Brianna was raped by Stephen Bonnet. No. NO!_ The vile truth causes his fists to clench. He knows Bonnet, and he knows Brianna. She wouldn’t have meekly submitted. The idea of that psychopathic bastard’s hands on her. _Oh God!_ Forcing her, beautiful stubborn Brianna, HIS WIFE, brings a hot surge of rage. Roger lets out a bellow and strikes the nearest tree. The pain recalls him to himself, and the anger transforms suddenly into shame. Roger chokes back a sob and collapses slowly down the rough trunk of the oak, head in his hands. _Fraser is right, goddamn the man._   _I should never have left her alone._ No matter how angry he was, or she was. He takes in a deep, shuddering breath. He had left her though, left her in the small hours of the night, alone in a strange city. _In fucking 1769. Idiot! How could I have been so stupid?_

He can’t hold it back any longer. He allows it all to wash over him, the anger and shame, regret and grief. Grief for all that is lost: Brianna’s irretrievable innocence, the life they should have had, and for the man he used to be. Roger weeps and rages by turn, riding the crests and troughs of emotion as they come.

\--oo0oo--

Roger walks south the rest of the day. The exercise feels good, stretching his sore muscles, and he breathes the clean forest air deeply, relishing his liberty. Freedom brings the young man, Ian, to his mind. He feels a pang of regret and sends up a quick prayer. God willing, Ian will have a kinder fate than Father Alexandre.

\--oo0oo--

The days pass and Brianna is never far from Roger’s mind. He remembers the night he last saw her. _Lord, she was so beautiful._ Naked. Flushed from the fire and the heat of their lovemaking. She had been eager, sometimes unsure, and he had reveled in her burgeoning sensuality. They lay together afterward, in the warm haze of content. He can recall exactly the tickle of her thick hair, and the feel of her smooth white fingers entwining with his own large calloused ones. They had been happy, intoxicated with the joy of one another.

How is Brianna now? It must be difficult for her, facing an uncertain future in a strange time, bereft of family. And pregnant. A spark of joy flares at the thought of Brianna carrying his child, but it dims quickly. _My child.... or Bonnet’s._ What if the bairn is Bonnet’s? Could he live in doubt for the rest of his days, and still be a whole-hearted father?

The answer comes to him clear and sure as the tolling of a great bell. _Yes. Yes, I bloody well can._ The baby might be his after all; but it is no matter. The Reverend had loved him. Roger was an orphan, but Reverend Wakefield gave him everything he needed and more. He will do the same. He will love the child regardless. The surety of it is swift and strong, and with it’s coming Roger feels a great sense of relief. Sore his soul may be, but he is still the Reverend’s son.

\--oo0oo--

Deep down Roger was never truly in doubt about his decision. Despite what he told Father Alexandre, he had made his choice already, had made it repeatedly in fact. He loves Brianna. He needed the time to recover and process the traumas of the last months, and maybe to put the new cynical part of himself to rest. Now he can return to Brianna a whole man, ready to embrace her and the bairn. As Fraser said, she doesn’t need a coward, nor a broken man.

Roger is finally ready to be a husband and a father. This time was necessary for himself, but it is also his gift to Brianna. The gift of a man restored to a semblance of the one she knew, who can be steadfast and strong through whatever may come. Roger feels a smile spread across his face and lengthens his stride. _I’m coming for you Brianna, for you and the bairn. I’m coming home._


End file.
